“Mr. HS, what exactly do you mean by that?”
Breaking the heavy silence, CP Ko Hyeon-deok sprang to his feet as if to raise an objection.
“Suddenly pull out—what are you talking about?”
As he pressed HS again, HS scratched the hard back of his helmet and answered flatly.
“If that’s how Production wants it, they can drop one contestant—no big deal.”
“Yes, you know how this business works. The show didn’t cost pennies, and—”
“But if you’re dropping her for no better reason than that, then I’ll withdraw too.”
At HS’s added remark, Ko shot upright like a spring.
Drag—bang!
His chair skittered back and slammed the wall with a crash.
“Look here, you—flying high because people keep praising you? Is this blackmail?”
Ko narrowed his eyes, voice all intimidation.
“You saying you never want to set foot in a station again?”
Manager Kim, silent till now, gave a sigh that made no sound.
The CP picked the wrong line…
Hyunseung has always despised station doors; that threat would never work—
“Yes, that’s fine with me.”
—of course not.
“I think you’re confused. When did I ever ask to appear?”
“What?”
“You folks begged me first, remember? ‘Please, we’re desperate, save us, come on just once…’”
Hyunseung tilted his chin.
“If not for that, I wouldn’t even look toward a building that had a TV studio in it.”
Manager Kim gave a little snort and cleared his throat, pleased.
Good boy!
Ko Hyeon-deok wielded clout as thick-rooted pine at MBN, but watching Hyunseung talk so crisply without blinking was impressive.
Besides, LS artists have strong streaming power and plenty of in-house marketing; losing one network hardly hurts.
Ko surely knew that too.
“Mr. Kim!” Ko turned his target. “You at least understand how outrageous this is. Don’t just stand by—stop him! We can’t have him rampaging like this!”
Contrary to Ko’s hopes, the response hardly differed.
“Stop him? Who, me?”
Kim pointed at himself, waving off the idea.
“He’s uncontrollable.”
“Pardon?”
“Look at him—does he look controllable?”
His finger pointed to HS’s helmet as if the thing might swallow them.
Just then PD Seong Gyu-jin barked in place of the reddening CP.
“Why are we making such a fuss over Yun Jae-i!”
Seong had always looked for chances to score with Ko.
“This isn’t kids’ play!”
For any PD the CP was a lofty sky—and Ko wielded near-director power. Better latch on to that rope.
“You people—!”
Seong shouted with all his might.
“Think quitting is that easy—?!”
“You yelling at my kid?”
Manager Kim rose like an angry parent, voice as big as his frame.
“How can I not yell in this mess?”
“Do only what you can answer for.”
“Answer? What answer? If we sue for damages—”
Kim chuckled. “Damages? Been in TV long?”
“E-excuse me?”
“Don’t know our CEO’s temper?”
He jerked his chin toward Ko.
Ko flinched. “Y-yes…”
Kim hadn’t meant to threaten but a junior PD had dared touch his boy.
“Why bring up your CEO all of a sudden?”
“Then our director is just decoration, is he?”
Seong doubled down; he’d gone this far. But—
“You fool! Enough! Can’t you read the room?”
Ko roared; Seong shrank.
Huh? What just happened? Aren’t I earning points?
Seong fell silent, eyes darting.
“Let’s all settle down and talk,” Ko breathed out. “Mr. Kim, I’ll swallow my pride. If HS quits now, where does that leave us?”
Manager Kim replied calmly, “I understand…”
“HS never wanted to appear; we’re grateful he did—ratings are up… But any show has internal circumstances, especially one burning cash like this. We’re not a charity; we have to make something back.”
Kim glanced at Hyunseung; final decision lay with him. Their contract never forced appearances.
And even if HS’s exit soured relations with MBN—
The boss will forgive him.
Then HS tapped the table with one finger—tok, tok.
“PD Kim, may I ask one thing?”
“Of course.”
“Why decide on the lineup so suddenly right before the Top 10 round?”
“We intended to leave some spots for fair evaluation,” Kim answered after a pause, “but agencies signed contestants late and pressured us—investment in exchange for Top 10 slots. Just yesterday JN Entertainment pushed hard for their new signee to make the final.”
The name jerked Manager Kim’s eyebrow.
JN… He recalled rumors of exploitative contracts.
“Then…”
Hyunseung spoke, voice dry yet forceful.
“LS didn’t pay in for Kang Hajun. Are you promoting him just to keep relations with LS?”
“Well…”
“Then why drop Yun Jae-i? Same ‘background.’ I plan to develop her.”
All eyes swung to HS. Same background? That meant Jae-i was LS as well?
Even Manager Kim blinked—pure fiction; she’d signed nothing.
“So Yun Jae-i is under LS?”
“Yes.”
“When did that contract happen?”
Manager Kim covered his mouth: “When?”
Like an emcee, HS pointed at Kim. “Mr. Kim will explain.”
He lifted his visor and winked. Kim sighed.
Another mess, and cleanup is mine.
“But I thought—” Ko stammered.
LS wouldn’t ask for two without paying, would they?
“A misunderstanding,” Kim said smoothly.
Business is business; most problems boil down to money.
“Shall we start with numbers again?”
He suggested; Ko straightened his collar. “Yes—slowly, at ease.”
He looked like a store clerk greeting a VIP.
Meanwhile, in the far corner of the hall, Yun Jae-i pored over her score.
“Be in the hall in ten minutes.”
“Ten? Minutes?”
“A mid-evaluation will begin.”
“Suddenly—?”
A staffer delivered the curt order; cameras captured contestants’ dismay.
I haven’t finished the arrangement yet…
Jae-i scribbled frantically on her frayed sheets.
“Hey, why won’t you listen!”
She turned at the shout.
“I told you—eat less than the others, didn’t I?”
“I’m sorry…”
PD Seong, brow knotted, was barking at contestant Han Seung-eon, who carried some extra weight.
“Why isn’t your weight down? It’s up!”
“I’m sorry…”
“You don’t want to be here, is that it?”
Seung-eon bowed over and over.
“You want me to drop you now? Even if you reach Top 10, viewers vote, and you’d be cut at once.”
“I’ll do whatever you say.”
Seong squeezed his shoulder. “I’m saying this for your sake.”
“Yes, thank you…”
Ko covered his mouth, chuckling. Contestants were tools; the staff only needed ratings.
Of course, not all would succeed.
Han Seung-eon was already slated for elimination—no agency interest, last in the popularity poll.
Seong stalked off, no one daring to oppose him.
He scanned the hall; his gaze landed on Jae-i, still muttering lyrics.
HS’s miracle pick… and now his miracle rescue.
Annoyance prickled; he recalled the earlier scene:
“Who asked to appear?”
That arrogant tone.
Watching cameras like servants.
Disgusting.
If only HS would blow everything up and overturn the table—then maybe Seong wouldn’t be the only loser.
Please, please…
He prowled about, picking fights with nervous contestants, then kept peeking at the door like a dog needing to pee.
Noise flared; Ko, Kim Young-ho, and HS entered.
“Hey, PD.”
“Y-yes?”
HS called him. Seong answered meekly.
“Why stir things up?”
“I, uh…”
“The kids hardly have time to rehearse.”
“…Sorry.”
As he lifted his head, HS raised a finger to his visor.
“Shh, okay?”
“Y-yes.”
“See? Nice.”
Seong stiffened.
“You, why are you like this?”
“Sir?”
“If I hadn’t smoothed it over…”
Ko scolded him.
“Your temper will ruin you.”
Seong clenched his fists. “I’ll correct it…”
That lecture should have gone to HS—but one thing was clear:
No miracle for him.
Talks had ended well; Yun Jae-i was in the Top 11.
Damn…
Only one person couldn’t smile: PD Seong Gyu-jin, who’d tried to curry favor and ended up exiled.
I’m the only one screwed…
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